The 'It' Thing by Gabby1017
by Naughty or Nice Contest
Summary: Bella Swan orders pizza to ease her heartbreak of a burnt dinner with no family, and no friends. What arrives at the door is so much more than she ordered.


**Contest entry for the Naughty or Nice Twilight Christmas Contest**

 **Title:** The 'It' Thing

 **Pairing:** Edward and Bella

 **Rating:** M

 **Word count:** 5,131

 **Summary:** Bella Swan orders pizza to ease her heartbreak of a burnt dinner with no family, and no friends. What arrives at the door is so much more than she ordered.

 **Disclaimer:** Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **The 'It' Thing**

 **BPOV**

At four-thirty a. m. with a double 'caw'... 'caw' sound and a steady beat of a bass drum in between, I stir to the sounds of Aerosmith from my alarm.

"Caw ... caw … beat ... caw ... beat … caw … beat!"

 _wake up kids it's half past the_

 _youth_

 _ain't nothin really changin_

 _the date_

 _you're a grand slammer, but_

 _you're no babe ruth_

 _you got to learn how to relate,_

 _or you'll be swingin from the_

 _pearly gate_

 _yeah, I got all the answers, lo and behold I got the right key baby_

 _but the wrong keyhole-yo._

By the time the drumrolls begin, I jump out of bed and dance to the bathroom. Tapping my hands on my thighs mimicking drum playing, I take care of business, wash my hands and face, brush my teeth, wrap my hair into a messy bun, and straighten my bed until the guitar sings out. I shake my butt, singing _, "Eat the Rich!"_

Still bouncing, my alarm turns off, and I make my way into the dark kitchen. 'Still doin' the melody of the song. Flipping the light switch, I take notice of all the pots, pans and aluminum containers I collected and piled on top of the island. With a thorough list of things to do on my refrigerator, I pull it from the magnet clip and read my first task.

 _Waking up at two-hour intervals throughout the night, I drained the water from the sink and drew fresh water to defrost the turkey. Half of the time, my eyelids remaining closed._

As I drag it out of the sink and drop it into the other, I tear open the plastic and run cold water on the ruddy skin. Lifting the bird by the wings, I extend and shake the bird free. _"Shake, shake, shake … Shake, shake, shake. Shake your booty, Shake your booty."_

I stare at the bird, "You have no rhythm, fowl!."

I laugh. "Dear God, I'm talking to raw food."

Since I _do_ sound crazy, I opt for my iPhone and program a list of songs from YouTube.

Music blares as I dance around the island. An hour later, the turkey is in the oven, all dressed in its finest spices and injected with buttery goodness.

I have a request for three kinds of potatoes. Peter and Char like mashed with heavy cream, butter, and salt. Kate enjoys my scalloped potatoes with cheddar cheese. And Garrett is a fan of creamers in a thick, onion soup gravy. I aim to please.

I dice, shred and boil three sets of spuds and prepare each one in a half-size, aluminum Sterno container, which go into one of my double ovens.

Checking my list, I make a cracker stuffing in the food processor. I watch as it all becomes fine crumbs. I add chopped green peppers, carrots, some celery, and blend away with a full cup of chicken stock and melted butter. The consistency is perfect and I fill another half container and place it in the oven.

I don't stuff the turkey, it's too messy.

My apartment smells like Christmas heaven.

I take a break with a cup of instant coffee and a corn muffin. I read the chores I set forth for the day.

I say out loud, "This is going to be the best Christmas dinner ever!"

 **EPOV**

"This is going to be the best Christmas dinner ever!" I yelp, as I hug my mom and spin her around in circles.

"Edward, please, put me down," Mom begs. "I'm getting dizzy."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Smiling, she holds out her arms and wiggles her fingers. "Surprise?"

The front door bursts open and Dad, my two brothers and sisters-in-law walk in.

"Well, since you wouldn't come home to us, we came to you," Dad announces.

"Hey, hey, all of you!" I shout in surprise.

A group hug commences, as we all move in a circle patting our backs and tightly squeezing us all together.

Emmett bellows, "It wouldn't be Christmas without you, bro."

And I stutter, "I-I truly hated to be alone."

We break apart and look at one another. Rosalie quips, "This had better be a good meal, Edward. We took the red-eye for this."

"Yeah, look at our red eyes," Jasper kids.

Alice asks, "We'll, I'm ready to help. What are we doing first, big brother?"

"The turkeys and hams are already in the ovens. I guess we each make a side dish and we're good."

Alice chants, "I'll make the mashed potatoes and gravy."

Mom adds, "I'll bake pies. You have everything for pumpkin and pecan?"

I smile. "Sure, do."

Jasper volunteers, "I'll make the green bean casserole with onion crisps and bacon."

"I know you have dough, so, how about rolls?" Emmett gleefully rubs his hands together.

"How many people are coming, Edward?" Rosalie questions.

"Well, Uncle Max fed five families in the neighborhood, but we do get a few homeless."

"Do you want a salad?"

"Rose, yeah. Can you make your croutons?"

"Of course."

"Then, that leaves the pizza for you and me, Son."

"Dad, that would be great."

He looks around and smiles. "The place looks great. Max would be proud."

"I hope so. It's still the best pizza around."

" _I'm telling you, Eddie, my boy, you stick with Uncle Maxie, and you'll fly right."_

" _I get to fly, Uncle Maxie?"_

" _Well, not exactly flying, my boy, but you'll learn the right things. To be a man, you be responsible, and take charge," he gruffly says._

" _But I'm only five-years-old."_

" _We start you now, Eddie, and by the time you're a man, you're all set. You know what I mean?"_

 _I nod. "Be responsible and take charge."_

 _He cups my face and pats my cheek. "You're a good boy. Now, let's toss come dough, huh?"_

 _I smile as he leads me into the kitchen. "Just know this is the best pizza around."_

I smile at the memory.

 **BPOV**

I'm so glad I have two ovens. With all the food I still need to create, I know I'll have room.

It's seven-thirty, and I prop my feet on the table as I lean back into the sofa. With my second coffee in hand, I take a sip and sigh, munching on the crust of my favorite pizza joint, and muster the energy to finish the cooking.

But first, I set my table with a fine, white linen tablecloth, my best china, silverware, and crystal. The chargers are gold to match the gold borders on my white plates. I use my grandmother's gold flatware and remind myself the forks go on the left while knives and spoons go on the right. I place a small bread plate and knife, to the left of the forks, and line up the water and wine goblets to the right.

Etiquette can frustrate the brain. Then, again, Garrett will complain there are too many utensils, and Kate will groan.

Back into the kitchen, I prepare a few appetizers. Peter loves pigs in a blanket and Char will eat anything with cheese. So, I roll pieces of dough over small smokies on a greased cookie sheet. Then, I take cream cheese and cheddar with a little mayo and ranch dressing to form a log and roll it in chopped pecans and bacon bits. Ritz and bits and Char will be happy.

Everything in the ovens.

The feast of a lifetime is on the way to being historically perfect for my liking. My friends will be here by mid-afternoon, and we'll finally share Christmas together.

I stare at my tree with all their gifts underneath, sitting on a gold lamé tree skirt. The ornaments sparkle against the colored lights. And Garrett will help me put on the star topper.

 **EPOV**

I don't know who tosses harder or higher, but Dad and I try to outdo the other. With our sleeves rolled to our elbows, we flip and spin, broadly smiling.

" _Boys. Boys. It's all about the presentation and the twist of your wrists. You wear tight Tees to show off those bulging arm muscles and pecs. You flip the dough with style and pizazz, being a showman of the pizza master."_

 _Uncle Maxie flexes his massive biceps with his arms raised and looks from side to side. "Yeah, the ladies love these."_

"What are you smiling about, Edward?"

"I was remembering Uncle Maxie's instruction for entertaining the 'ladies', Dad," I laugh.

He smiles with a distant look. "Maxie was quite the 'man' around town. He had a business card like a small folder so he could place money into the pocket to give to the 'unfortunates' he'd say, and wrapped candy for their children. In large gold letters, it read, "Maximilian Cullen, Pizza maker, and humanitarian. He wanted to make money so he could give it away."

"It's funny how different Uncle Maxie was in comparison to Grandpa."

"My father worked very hard to put food on the table. He took pride in taking care of his family. He always worried about security where Uncle Maxie just lived from day to day."

"Uncle Maxie didn't have a family to raise or mouths to feed."

"True, but he considered everyone as his family. He was a very generous man. He prepared for his death. He told me that should anything happen to him, he needed someone to run his business and make sure the families he helped continued to get that support. He waited for you, Son. He waited for you to become a man. That's why he left this to you."

I nod as I spin dough in my hand. "Yeah, he always said, 'Go by your gut, kid. It will never fail you.' I was five, Dad."

"Didn't matter to him. He thought you were an old soul. Now, these families, do you have presents for them or do you give them money?"

I buy toys for the kids, some cash, and give gift cards for the adults."

"What about the people who come in off the street?"

"I have vouchers for free pizza and drinks wrapped around the candy canes on the tree. When they leave, I hand them an envelope of cash."

"I'm impressed."

"One day, I'll go back to the hospital. But I like saving lives this way now. It's less stressful."

"And maybe you'll find the right girl?"

"I'll go with my gut. I'll know it when I see it."

 **BPOV**

I awake with a start with dribble down my chin. That's what I get for waking up far too early. Taking my cup and plate into the kitchen, I open one of the ovens and check on the turkey and ham. They look good.

I don't feel like showering just yet, so I check my emails. After deleting all the junk, I find a message from my editor. Happily, my final chapter is complete, and I need to approve it for publishing.

I smile.

This is my third book in a series of romance, mystery, and sexual magic. Yeah, I write some smut, but it's good bedroom play and my readers like it.

The main characters have yet to get together, but both express their desire to 'spread the other out' in so many ways throughout the books.

My cell chimes and I grab it off the counter. "Hey, Peter."

"Hi, Bella."

Silence.

"Aw, Peter, did you call for a reason? I mean, we'll see one another in a few hours."

I hear a deep sigh. "Bella, I'm sorry, we're not going to make it."

"Is everything all right?"

He exhausts another deep sigh. "Something came up."

I hold onto my anger and ask, "That's it? Something came up."

"Look, Char and I … We had a fight. She walked out, and I don't know where she is. She won't answer her phone."

My turn to sigh. "Like last year?"

"What?"

"Peter, you and Char had a fight last year, too. Then, the next day you were in Bermuda."

Silence.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Bella, I'm sorry."

"Save it."

I disconnect the call.

I make a good living, but I spend a lot of time alone. That's one reason I remain friends with Peter and Char. They can be fun to be around, but they owe me money.

I'm ready to chalk it up, accept the loss, and move on. That's a done deal.

My phone rings again.

"Hey, Kid."

"Hi, Dad."

He cheerfully greets, "First, Happy Birthday. Now, Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, Dad, Merry Christmas to you."

"How's the weather in the Windy City?"

"Cold, wet and chilly."

"Forks?"

"Same, but not as cold as your Chicago."

"What are you and Mom doing for Christmas?"

"She's volunteering at the soup kitchen in a bit, I have to work. You remember Riley Biers?"

"Yeah, he was a rookie you trained."

"Well, he's married now with a six-month-old. He was scheduled to work. So, I took his shift."

"How did Mom feel about that?"

"Oh, I talked it over with her, and she agreed with me to give him the time off to be with his family."

"Well, that was nice of the both of you."

"What about you? Got some big plans?"

"Well, Peter and Char _were_ going to come for dinner along with Kate and Garrett."

He sighs. "Did they all bow out of the evening?"

"Peter just called. It's still early for Garrett and Kate."

"I'm sorry, Bella. You know, Mike and Jake always ask about you when I see them."

"Dad, I'm not moving back to Forks. My publisher is here."

"But you work at home. You can do what you do anywhere," My mother pipes in from the background.

"I promise, if I can get a flight, I'll be home for the New Year. I was waiting for the finished manuscript."

Mom pleads, "And?"

"And it's completed. Should be out in a few months."

"Oh, Honey, that's wonderful."

Dad cheers from the background, "Proud of you, Bells."

I smile. "Thanks."

"Well, I need to get to the shelter. Happy Birthday, my sweet girl." Dad shouts from the back, "And Merry Christmas." Simultaneously they sing, "We love you. Don't open your gifts until midnight."

"Love you both, too. Ditto on the midnight. Bye."

 **EPOV**

Dad and I finish with the first bunch of pies, and we take a break to find Emmett bringing in a pile of wrapped gifts in white garbage bags.

"Do I bring the family presents upstairs, Edward?"

"You brought all of those on the plane?"

"What's Christmas without gifts? And Mom wrapped a few extra just in case."

I shake my head smiling. "Yeah, upstairs."

He juggles the packages as he takes two steps at a time.

I mumble scratching my head, "Just in case of what?"

 **BPOV**

Okay, I need to wash my misery away. I get into the shower, and I sing along with Barbra, ' _Don't Rain On My Parade_.'

I think back to my conversation with my parents, and I hate to admit, but I could use a good man. After two years, I'd like a relationship. My Rabbit bores me, and it doesn't

cuddle.

I dry my hair and do my face. Even though the table looks formal, I dress in simple, black leggings and a red tunic sweater.

The phone rings and I brace myself for bad news.

"Bella, hi."

I groan, "Hi, Kate."

"What's wrong?"

I take a full breath and exhale. "Well, Peter and Char won't be joining us. I assume you and Garrett won't be here either."

"I'm sorry."

"Did you and Garrett have a fight, too, and he's MIA?"

"I'm sorry, Bella. We have to fly out in an hour."

"Sure."

"I'll call you when we get ba ..."

I shut off my phone.

I'm not a crier, but tears fill my eyes. Chicago is cold. It's my fault for my selection of friends. I spend too much time alone with my books. I write about romance and deep abiding love, but I can't find a decent friend, let alone a man.

I sit on the sofa and lean back allowing the tears to run down the side of my cheeks. I whisper, "I'm a good friend."

Okay, I'm in a full, blown-up, pity party. I need a drink.

Slapping my thighs and rising from the sofa, I take a bottle of chilled wine out of the fridge, pull the cork and fill one of the goblets, tossing the cork carelessly over my shoulder. Taking a large gulp, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and breathe a

heavy _'aww',_ grabbing the bottle by the neck and sitting back on the sofa, placing my feet up on the coffee table. I guzzle down the remaining wine in the glass, lay it on the table and drink from the bottle. "Tastes better straight from the source."

I look around and stare at the tree. "Guess you won't get your topper."

I take another swig, "Hmm, that's good."

 **EPOV**

The way the restaurant is set up, there is a counter of dark wood as you walk into the place in front of the open, stainless steel kitchen and ovens. You can order food and, then sit in the eating area with booths of red leather or individual, square, laminated dark wood tables with a Chianti bottle candle, salt and pepper shakers, and fresh Parmesan in a small bowl. I have pictures of Uncle Maxie around the room with many celebrities and political figures.

The front has a large, plate glass window next to the red entrance door. I put the Christmas tree in front of the window with all the gifts for the families and the candy canes with vouchers on the branches.

Emmett, Jasper, and I set up a buffet table with all the food up against the wall, then centering a long table by placing all the square ones side by side. Twenty-five people share this meal.

Surrounded by Uncle Maxie's neighborhood families, my family, and a few walk-ins, I toast, "Thank you, Mom, Dad …" I look at my brothers. "You guys." My sisters-in-law. "I'm glad we're all together sharing a meal of thanks with these wonderful people who Uncle Maxie loved and cared for."

Everyone cheers.

Mr. Giordano slowly stands with his raised glass. "Thank you, Edward." He looks around, his small frame hunches with age and wisps of white hair fall into his thankful eyes. "Maxie helped this neighborhood, and I'm sure most of us here would be on the streets or in homes for the aged without the help." He huffs. "This Christmas dinner is a testimonial of his generosity, which you apparently inherited along with the restaurant. Thank you for keeping the tradition. We truly appreciate it." He takes a sip of his drink. "I only wished my wife could be here." He smiles at me. "She would have loved you, too." He sits with tear-filled eyes.

I clear my throat, raise my glass to him and take a gulp. "Now, everyone, eat!"

 **BPOV**

I lazily open my drunken eyes to faint smoke coming from the kitchen. In my head, I wonder why the smoke alarms didn't sing out. Then, I recall I took out the batteries because they kept beeping.

When I stand, I fumble over two, empty bottles of wine.

Did I drink all of this?

Stumbling to the kitchen, I turn off the heat and open the open where the ham and turkey were cooking.

Two very black lumps sit in each pan. "No."

I grab the potholders from the counter and lift the turkey pan out of the oven. Dear God, The smoke explodes from the carcass streaming gray clouds into my face. With tearing eyes while holding my breath, I place the pan in the sink and run water over the burnt bird.

A bad idea, since more smoke spews from the pan and I gasp for breath.

Running to the front door, I open it and breathe in the freezing, fresh air gasping for breath.

I leave the front door open to clear out the smoke.

Returning to the kitchen, I grab for the ham pan and take it outside to smolder. The one in the sink is now smokeless.

 _What the hell?_

I look around the smoke-filled apartment in terror.

Smoke slowly but forcefully begins to spew from the other oven, and I open it to charred stuffing, potatoes, and little hotdogs.

All of my hard work up is in smoke.

Delicious food that is all now inedible.

Friends that won't eat it.

Friends that can't eat it.

People who aren't friends.

My mind turns all these thoughts into sad reminders that I am a failure at relationships.

Crying, and I never cry, I take all the containers and throw them on my front stoop with the ham. Leaving the door open and freezing my ass off, I become more upset.

And dammit, my stomach growls.

 **EPOV**

After everyone has a plate in from of them brimming the edges with food, I sit at the head of the table. My father's insists. "Edward, this is your table; you deserve to sit at the head."

We all hold hands, give thanks and dig in.

At first, there is silence, but for the sounds of utensils tapping and scraping the plates that echo throughout the room. The chatter begins with the children as they bite into their slices of pizza and giggle.

I don't think I see Emmett's eyes for at least fifteen minutes, as he finishes his first plate. It's until he rises from his chair, I see the contentment on his face.

"Great job, Bro. I didn't know you could cook."

"Uncle Maxie taught me."

Dad adds, "He was a chef, you know."

"I just thought he could make pizza."

"No, he went to school. When he graduated, he got a job as a short-order cook and worked his way into a small hotel. He didn't like being told what to do, so he bought this place, and the rest is history."

Mom smiles. "Whenever we came for a visit, he would insist we stay with him, and he would feed us nonstop."

Emmett laughs. "Yeah, I remember the time he had three women after him."

"He always had women around," Jasper quips.

Alice asks, "Really?"

Mom answers, "He loved the ladies."

"Dated many." Dad laughs.

Mr. Giordano asks me, "So, you cook like your uncle, do you have women like your uncle?"

I turn beet red.

Mom interjects, "No, Mr. Giordano, Edward is waiting for the right one. Says he'll know it when he sees it."

Emmett gawfs, "A long time."

More laughter and the phone rings.

I stand to answer, but Mom says, "It's Christmas, Edward."

"Let me check," I softly say.

I answer, 'Maxie's' and I hear the voice of an angel in tears.

"I'm sorry. I know it's Christmas, but do you happen to be open?"

Before I can answer, she continues, "My dinner is ruined. It's burnt to a crisp, and my friends didn't come. Could I get a cheese pizza?"

My heart falls. How could I deny her? "Yes, of course, what's your address?"

When I hang up the phone, I explain to my mother I have to go.

She just nods her head with a small smile. My father pats my shoulder and Emmett continues to eat with his eyes on his pate.

 **BPOV**

Finally, my luck changes. Maxie's is open, and there's a cheese pizza with my name on it on the way.

With the ceiling fan on high and the door still open, the smoke begins to clear.

I'm in the kitchen, when there's a knock at the door, and a melodic 'hello' sings out.

Wrapping my sweater tighter around me, I walk into the living room to find my pizza being held by an Adonis.

His face lights up with a smile, and I believe there's a halo hovering over his bronze hair.

He meets me halfway and looks around, but settles his bright green eyes on me. "What happened?"

In a daze, I stare back. "After my guests canceled, I drank too much wine, fell asleep and my dinner burned.

We step closer to one another.

"It's cold in here."

"I had to air out the smoke."

"You can't stay here."

"I have no place to go."

"You can come with me to my restaurant."

"You own Maxie's?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" I smile.

God, he smiles.

"We're having a family dinner. Please, come and meet them."

"Will you help me bring all the presents under the tree? I can't go empty-handed."

"My name is Edward Cullen."

I start to put the packages into bags.

"I'm Bella Swan."

"I'm glad you ordered the pizza."

"I'm glad I burned my dinner."

We laugh.

 **EPOV**

By the time we get to the restaurant and walk through the door, the children are on the floor opening presents.

I lay the pizza on the end of the table, drop the bag of gifts underneath, and see all eyes on Bella and me.

"Lil Bro, you've been holding out on us." Emmett taunts.

"Who's your date?" Mom asks.

"This is Bella," I say to Mom.

"Your son was gracious enough to invite me tonight."

I interject, "Bella had a problem with her heat, so I asked her to join us."

She looks up at me, and I can't turn away.

"Come, sit. You must be hungry." Mom gestures for us to join her.

I take Bella by the hand, grab another chair and place it next to mine.

I help her take off her coat and drape it on the back of her chair.

The interrogation begins. "You were all alone?" Mom says to Bella.

Bella takes a deep breath. "To be honest, I'm lousy at choosing friends. I made a big dinner and no one showed."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, Bella. Well, you're here, we're here, and you don't have to be alone."

"Thank you."

"I'll get you dinnerware. Be right back." I rush into the kitchen for a plate, fork, and knife and come back to find Bella surrounded by my family, laughing.

I fill Bella's plate with a little of everything and place it in front of her. She looks up at me and mouths a 'thank you,' as I sit next to her. "Eat."

She takes the fork and spears small pieces of meat, the side dishes, and smiles. "The perfect bite." She pops it into her mouth and hums. "This is so good."

I offer her wine, but she declines and opts for a Coke.

We share memories of Uncle Maxie, and I watch Bella take in everyone's stories with a nod of her head and smiles.

"Uncle Maxie sounds as though he was an amazing man," she says.

My dad agrees, "He was Bella. His generosity held no bounds."

Mr. Giordano yawns. "Well, I'm going to call it a night. Thank you once again for a lovely dinner and wonderful company."

I walk him to the door with the other families and walk-ins, each receiving leftovers and an envelope of gift cards and cash.

Emmett, Mom and Bella throw all the paper goods into the trash, Alice and Rosalie place the leftovers in the fridge, and Dad and Jasper put the tables and chairs back to their positions.

We finish with the cleanup and head upstairs. Opening the door to my living room, everyone takes a seat near the tree. I hand Bella her bags of gifts and sit next to her.

Dad explains to Bella, "The Cullen tradition is everyone opens one gift per eight rounds. Esme always has hindsight bringing more presents, so you will join us, Bella."

"Thank you, and I have a gift for each of you, too." She smiles.

All of us 'ooh' and 'aaw' with each package.

Bella sheds a few tears when she opens a small box with a silver bracelet of good luck charms. She kids, "I really need this."

We all laugh.

Bella hands out the gifts she had beautifully wrapped in ornate paper and bows. Dad is quite happy with a watch that gives the time in all time zones. Mom loves a gold necklace with a puffy heart. Both Emmett and Jasper model their Ray-Bans, while Rosalie checks through a makeup container with matching eyeshadows, lipsticks, and blushes. I receive black, matching gloves, hat, and scarf in a soft yarn. But it's Alice's gift that creates an uproar and a turn of events.

Alice opens the lid of the box to find a manuscript. She lifts it up and thumbs through the pages in amazement. "Where did you get this?"

Bella shyly smiles, "It's the first draft of my third book. I found out earlier that it will be published in a few months."

Alice stares at Bella in shock, but returns to the first page and reads, "Time Travels: Book Three by Isabella M. Swan … Bella … Isabella. Oh my, I knew you looked familiar." Her wide eyes yelp, "Rose, this is the third book in the 'Time' series. Oh my God."

Dad frowns, "What's the 'Time' series?"

"Honestly, Carlisle, I wonder if you really listen when I speak to you. These are the books the girls have wanted for the past two years. The third book is not out yet, and this is the first draft. Bella is gifting Alice this raw copy."

Dad sits up, and I have to admit, so do I. Simultaneously, we say, "You're a writer?"

Bella blushes. "Yes."

I exhaust, "Wow!"

Jasper surprises all of us, "Well, Miss Bella, I have enjoyed your first two books. Alice and I read them together." He lowly chuckles. "And we're waiting for 'it' to happen."

Emmett pouts, "There's an 'it' thing?" He turns to Rosalie. "Why aren't we reading this together?"

Rose hesitates, "Because I didn't think you would be interested in romance."

Emmett slaps his chest with a flat palm, "Rose, you wound me. I am a romantic kind of guy."

I take Bella's hand. "And I'd like to read these with you,"

She blushes. "I'd like you to read them with me."

"Maybe, I'll find out what the 'it' means?"

She nods. "Oh, definitely you will find out what the 'it' thing is."

Mom whispers to Dad, "He's found his one."

Dad whispers, "More like his 'it,' Es." He smiles, and they cuddle.

"More like his 'it' thing.

The End

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